The Life of Hermione Granger
by pocketgamer2001
Summary: A short story about Hermione between the end of her first year and the end of her second year at Hogwarts. How did she feel whilst the fear of the Chamber of Secrets haunted the school? Implied Harmione. One shot.


Summer had started only a week ago and Hermione needed to go back to Hogwarts. She didn't mind being at home and she loved spending time with her parents, but she missed her classes. She missed the magic spells. She missed the massive feasts. She missed the mysteries she had solved. She missed her friends. She missed...

Harry James Potter. Her best friend at Hogwarts. True, they had a mutual best friend in Ron Weasley, but he was often quite... insensitive.

Harry was sensitive. Harry was muggle born. Harry wasn't the smartest, but he wasn't dumb either. He was brave; he decided to tackle a gauntlet of magic spells of monsters to fight a dark lord of all people. He was just... admirable.

Which was why it frustrated her that Harry hadn't sent her any letters back. Sure, it had only been about a week and a half, but she had sent at least three letters to him in that time and received nothing in return. He wasn't the type of person to ignore her.

A knock came at her bedroom door. Her mum had come in, asking her if she wanted anything to eat or drink. She asked for a glass of milk and a cookie if there was one. Just as her mother was leaving, an idea flashed her mind along with the location '4 Privet Drive.' "Mum, could we go somewhere next week?"

Her mother replied pleasantly with the statement, "Well that depends whre it is, adn why do you want to go?"

A small blush decorated her face as she grinned and stated, "I wan't to visit a friend."

* * *

4 Privet Drive. She had somehow convinced her parents to allow her to visit Harry unsupervised. They had needed to go to the shop anyway, so she had gone alone, for the first time in her life, to visit someone. She was nervous, but that mostly fuelled the excitement of visiting someone alone. She knew that Harry had never been particularly fond of his extended family, but she was sure they would be decent enough to let her in.

She gave a pleasant knock at the door; three knocks, equally spaced, not harsh but not light. She had practiced this knock for when she visited people.

A tall, skinny woman in a red dress answered the door. Hermione wasn't one to judge people based on appearances, but her long neck made her look like a giraffe. "Can I help you dear?" she asked quite pleasantly.

"Um- I, uh..." Hermione fumbled, she hadn't really done this before. "I was, uh, wondering if Harry Potter lived here?"

The woman's face shrivelled, but Hermione couldn't tell what sort of emotion this was meant to exhibit. When the woman looked behind her for a moment and replied, "Um, no. No one by that name lives here," she determined that it was confusion. She apologised to the woman, who looked very busy, and walked off down the street.

Hermione got out her notebook and looked at the address that Harry had written down on it, confirming that she had gone to the correct house on the correct street. Was there perhaps another Privet Drive in another town? Had she perhaps misinterpreted Harry's messy handwriting? (Anyone would admit that his 'e' was written so poorly it looked like an 'a') Or perhaps... had he given her the wrong address on purpose...?

No Harry would never do that. He was too kind, too happy in the company of his friend to lie to them. He wouldn't purposefully try to get Hermione off of his back.

She went to find her parents, telling that he simply hadn't been in and she would try again another day.

* * *

It was July 31st, Harry's birthday, and Hermione was hesitant to deliver his birthday present.

Hiring the owl to do it was no bother, and regular muggle postage would also work just fine, it was amuggle household after all. But she had received a message from Ron saying that Harry hadn't replied to him all Summer, which was a fact that Hermione had also sadly experienced. Harry hadn't replied to any of her letters in all the time that she was on Holiday and as such wasn't all that optimistic that Harry had actually recieved her letters which resulted in her being less than certain that he would get her present.

She looked again at the present she was struggling to wrap; a picture of the three of them, framed and moving, smiling, laughing, trying to stand still... which ultimately didn't matter as the photo itself was moving. It was a nicely taken photo that she couldn't thank Hagrid enough for taking. The other part of her present was what she bought herself from the shop page of the Prophet. It was a set of Quidditch gloves, designed for better grip of the broom handle. Harry had trouble holding on to his broom and, even though that problem was mostly caused by Quirrel trying to kill her friend, she thought he'd appreciate the extra safety precaution when flying.

This wouldn't do. She needed to make sure he got his present now; she didn't think he'd appreciate it as much if he got it later on. it would also make it look like she hadn't bothered to send it if she waited to give it to him in person. Or would he appreciate it more in person? These thoughts plauged Hermione, until she drew the natural conclusion.

She asked her parents if they were busy tonight, and was delighted to here that they werent.

* * *

It was tea time for most places, but Hermione had eaten take away fish and chips before coming out so she wasnt hungry. Her parents had dropped her off at Privet Drive again, they went to a coffee shop just up the street for a drink whilst Hermione met her friend.

She held the package in her hands. She could feel the frame of the photo around the sides and the soft gloves on top of them. It was wrapped in a very traditional birthday style wrapping paper. She had made sure that it was red and yellow, their house colours.

She walked down the street, looking at the house she'd knocked at last time. She was certain Harry was there, but she hadn't even gotten to the door before she heard the shouting coming from the inside of the house. Curiosity getting the better of her, she decided to listen a bit before knocking. She regretted that immediatly.

She recognised one of the voices as the woman she had encountered before, but she wasn't acting kind anymore. The welcoming, quizzical voice had been replaced by one of anger. "We should just get rid of him Vernon! Make sure he doesn't do anything like that under our roof...!"

"Petunia!" this voice was male, and it carried an anger Hermione had only heard... well nowhere actually. "If we could get rid of him we'd have done it long ago! But now he knows about... that lot, it wouldn't be safe to just toss him out!"

Hermione could only assume they were talking about Harry. 'That lot' would relate to wizards... but they want to throw him out?

"Well I'm not keen on him being locked in his room! What if he dies in there! We don't want that on our heads!"

"I've been feeding him enough, he wont die! Sure, he may drop a weight class, but it's better than him using... THAT in our house!"

Hermione couldn't believe she was privy to this conversation. They were talking about feeding him enough to live... were they starving him?! The kind, heroic boy she'd come to know over her first year... starved!?

She stood at their door for about 5 minutes, listening to them shouting about Harry. The woman was shouting about throwing him out to stop him using magic, while the man said that he would make sure he didn't. She heard horrid things threatened onto her best friend; lashings, forced labour and less food were thrown around. It took Hermione all the effort she could muster to stop her crying being audible.

How could Harry be forced to live with people who hate him this much? Who were this cruel to him? And then she remembered.

Ron had sent her a letter saying he was going to try and break Harry out of his muggle house, figure out what had happened to him, why he wasn't responding. Witha new found desire to help her friend, she would message Ron saying to go ahead with it. Anything ahd to be better than here, even breaking the rules.

She placed her package on the floor, kocked hard and fast on the door and ran away to find her parents. She could only hope they had the smallest bit of decency to give Harry his present. She met up with her parents and returned home, composed her letter for Ron and sent it before struggling to fall asleep.

Who could after hearing that.

* * *

Whatever Hermione had expected to happen, she hadn't expected the Weasleys to go ahead with the rescue before they even got her letter. She recieved two letters in one a few days later. One from Ron, to report on the success of the operation, and one from Harry, telling her he was okay and at the Burrow (the Weasley's house she asssumed) and that she didn't need to worry about him. She appreciated the sentiment, but couldn't stop herself from worrying. She had heard first hand the life Harry had to lead.

When she saw Harry with Hagrid in Diagon alley, she had to restrain the urge to run and give him a huge hug. She had to restrain the urge to break down and tell him she was worried sick. As that would show that she knew, that she had seen his home life, and that was a life she was sure he didn't want to share.

When they were in Flourish and Blotts together, the trio reunited, Harry got caught in the crowd, seperating them almost imediately. In this moment she had with Ron, looking for their friends messy hair in the sea of people, she simply said, "Thank you Ron."

"Hm..?" Ron was confused for a moment, "for what?"

"Getting Harry out of there. I don't imagine he'd have lasted much longer in that house."

"He wouldn't have." Ron was rather blunt. He looked around, making sure Harry couldn't hear them before saying, "They locked him in his bedroom, barred his windows, took away all his wizard stuff... they even put a catflap on the door so they could feed him soup every night! It was bonkers."

Hermione hadn't heard the worst of it then. Now she'd found out that Harry, saviour of the wizarding world, had been treated like an animal by his own family. All the more reason to get him out of there she supposed. "Well, thank you anyway. It's good to see him happy away from school."

Ron seemed to miss the blunder that implied Hermione had at least tried to see Harry and simply replied, rather starkly for Ron Weasley, "Don't worry about it. He's my friend too, I was worried something awful had happend. Suppose I was right."

Hermione giggled slightly at Ron's self confidence and then went back to looking for Harry. They found him with Ginny and Malfoy, and from there the day seemed to spin out of control. Books were dropped, people were punched and Hermione couldn't help but sigh when they got out of the bookshop. She was away to leave the alley with her parents when Harry called to her. "Hermione!"

The young girl turned to find Harry grinning widely, donning a pair of gloves that looked very familiar to her. Then she realised where she remembered them from and started grinning as widely as Harry. "You got them!"

"Surprised I did to be frank. The package was on the kitchen table when we were getting my stuff. I'm surprised they left something for me out on the table. Oh and the picture! It's beside my dresser at the Burrow, didn't bring it 'casue... well y'know..."

Hermione understood; Harry was scared he would break it if he had brought it with him. "I'm just glad you got your present undamaged. The postman we have is a bit careless at times." Hermione was referring to herself and how she had just left the parcel on the floor.

"Well it got to me just fine," Harry said in a mockingly posh voice with an unfaltering happy tone, "and wanted to make my thanks known Miss Granger."

Hermione laughed and fake curtsied, "And I am happy that it made it's way to you Mr Potter, now if you do excuse me, I must return to the boring world I inhabit."

They were both still laughing as they said their goodbyes, and Hermione's grin stayed with her well into the night.

* * *

Hermione had hoped Harry's troubles would have left him by the time he got to Hogwarts. That never happened. Part of the trouble was him actually getting to Hogwarts. Blocked at the barrier, he relied on the little part of his brain that screamed "DANGER" and took the Weasley's flying car to school instead of waiting for asssistance. They were revered amongst many of their classmates, but not Hermione. Not only had they broklen at least 100 rules, they could have gotten themselves killed if they weren't careful.

Harry's year seemed to go downhill from there. People getting petrified, unable to move, and they blamed Harry, called him the heir of Slytherin. This wasn't at all helped by the realisation that Harry was a Parselmouth, a trait very rare and found in Salazar Slytherin himself. Then there was his first quidditch game of the season. A rogue bludger seemed to have been trained to attack Harry alone instead of the rest of the players. To his enjoyment (as well as Hermione and anyone in any of the houses) he had not only managed to get the snitch that game, but embarrass Malfoy in such a spectacular moment. (The snitch was right by the Slytherin's ear)

In exchange for this perfect moment, Harry had broken his arm and fallen off of his broom. Instead of letting him be taken to the school nurse, like everyone kept insisting, Lockhart tried to heal Harry's arm, only to remove all the bones in it. Hermione liked her Defence teacher, but this was just a silly mistake to make.

Harry had kept hearing malicious voices before someone was petrified as well, only adding to the thought that he was the heir of Slytherin. People were in genuine danger of dying and it all seemed to revolve around her best friend.

Together with Ron, she had tried everything to make his life easier, to figure out all the nonsense. They had read books on the Chamber of Secrets, they'd bothered teachers about it for days on end. They had even made a potion in order to infiltrate the Slytherin common room to get information. Nothing; every step forward they took seemed to show them just how far away from the end they were. It culminated on the day of Harry's last quidditch match. He'd heard the voice again, the voice that neither Hermione nor Ron could here.

Then she stopped. They couldn't hear it, OR could they just not understand it? Because Harry spoke Parseltounge, he could hear snakes and serpents speak in regular speech. Then that would mean that whatever was petrifying the students had to be something serpentine.

Hermione was sure there was only one serpent that could do that.

"Where are you going?!" Harry shouted down the corridor as Hermione broke into a full sprint.

"The library!" she made the urgency in her voice tangible as she turned a corner, her friends disapearing from her view. She couldn't help but feel guilty; she had never missed one of Harry's matches and now she had just left him, right before the game. But if she was right about this...

Once in the library she found the book she knew the page would be in (If you must know it was "The Sleuths Guide to Slithering Serpents" by Newt Scamander) and started scouring until she found it. The basilisk. A serpent that could kill by eye contact. But no one had died, why?... No one had seen the beast directly! If you saw the eyes through something as opposed to seeing them head on, then the effect wouldn't be lethal! Through a camera, a ghost, even seeing the reflection in the puddle. All the victims had seen the basilisk's eyes through something!... Except Nick, but he was already dead so he couldn't die again.

Hermione heard a rattle in the pipes and instinctively clutched the page of notes she had been taking down to give to Harry. The library was empty, save for the Ravenclaw prefect Penelope, who was going to investigate outside the library. Then it hit Hermione. How the basilisk had done all of this without being caught. Only one kind of creature to manoeuvre through pipes with ease; serpentine ones!

"Stop!" she yelled at the prefect whilst hastily scribbling "pipes" on the paper, fully aware that she might be away to get petrified. She needed some way to let Harry and Ron know what she'd found out, so this one word would have to be enough.

Penolope was coming over to ask Hermione what was wrong, but Hermione was faster than whatever question was coming. In a hushed sort of yell she asked, "Do you have a mirror or a lens of some kind on you?" The prefect nodded. "Take it out and use it to look around the corner. You'll thank me later."

The prefect was confused, but yieled to the young GHryffindor, who joined her in using the mirror to look around the corner. When she saw the bright eyes in the mirror only one thought hit Hermione. Not the joy of being right, not the fear of being petrified. One simple thought.

They'll figure it out. Harry will figure it out.

* * *

To give herself credit on both fronts, not only did Harry figure it out but Penelope had thanked Hermione when they were woken and briefed on the situation.

Once she had been discharge, she was told that a special celebratory banquet was being held, and that Harry had been waiting anxiously to see his friend un-petrified. Hermione didn't like to keep people waiting; even less so if that person was Harry.

She sprinted through the corridors, bumping past student who were making their way to the Great Hall, teachers who were taking their time, double checking their classrooms were properly locked up. She even ran through Peeves, much to his dismay.

She had collided with Ernie from Hufflepuff, who apologised for suspecting Harry. His reasoning was that he knew the boy who lived wouldn't harm Hermione at all. She kept saying not to worry about it; partly because she knew Harry was most likely already over it, mostly because it was time away from her best friend who was at the banquet.

When she got there, she shared a small greeting with her fellow victim, Nearly Headless Nick, who was looking as pleased as ever to see her. Someone at the Gryffindor table shouted that "Hermione is back!"

Hermione saw a flash of red hair lean back to see her, and Ron gave her the friednliest, most relieved, most genuine smile she had ever seen on him; he was definitely happy to have his friend back.

Then she saw Harry strain past, initially looking worried, until he saw her and he bursdt into the widest grin she had ever seen on him.

Unlike at Diagon alley, she had no will to suppress her urge to run at him, to hug him. There were no tears, but she was close to them. As she threw herself into the hug with Harry, she could already see him preparing to reciprocate. She felt welcomed by him, and as she gushed to him about how happy she was that they'd figured it out she felt his muscles relax. He was likely realising that his friend was truly here, she was okay, not petrified. Hermione felt warm inside, but couldn't quite place it.

She went to hug Ron. He complied happily, if somewhat awkwardly. The warm feeling was gone this time, but she could feel how relived Ron was to have her back.

As she sat by her two best friends, Hermione felt as though there was nothing that could bring her down.

* * *

That sentiment lasted until she realised, on the train, that Harry would have to go back to his muggle family again. Hermione was distressed, and clearly it wasn't just her. Ron, Fred, George, Ginny... even Percy came by to ask Harry if he was certain he had to go back. No matter how many times he was asked, Harry simply muttered "Yeah, I have to..." whilst looking solemny at the ground.

The whole train ride Hermione and Ron treid their hardest to take his mind off of it. They played chess, talked about classes for their next year. Hermione already had a homework tally written up (much to Ron's dismay) and they whispered about Percies girlfriend quite a lot. But, no matter how hard Hermione tried to cheer him up, Harry stilll faced that moment where King's Cross came into view and he realised what his Summer woudl entail.

"Surely they'll be nicer now given all that you've achieved?"

Harry gave out a solitary chuckle as he said, "Really? All those I almost died and didn't? They'll be so angry with me."

The group began to laugh at Harry's joke, and when she saw the small on Harry's face in that moment, Hermione was sure Harry would be okay for the Summer.

If after all he'd been through he could still be the same kind, smart, courageous and funny boy she'd become friends with, then she knew he'd be the same boy after his Summer holidays.

The warmth returned, and she wasn't even in a hug.

As she gave Harry and Ron her phone number and Harry began to scribble out his, with the twins causing as much mischief as they could before the left Platform 9 and 3/4, Neville still falling and tripping up, Pavarti and Lavender still being as enthusiastic about life as possible, Dean still struggling to explain the appeal of football to Seamus, Colin trying to sneak another last snap of Harry, Justin and Ernie coming over to talk with them one last time before they went back home, Hermione couldn't believe how lucky she was to be a witch.

She hugged Ron (and in doing so, most of Ron's family) goodbye before turning to Harry to hug him goodbye.

The hug was the same as the one in hall; welcoming, kind, friendly. Hermione felt the warmth hit her stronger than it had ever done before, but honestly? She didn't care; as long as she could feel this with Harry whenever he was around, then she was fine with this warm feeling.

And so it concluded. Hermione Granger's second year at Hogwarts was over... and she couldn't wait for the third to come.


End file.
